The Little Princess

EPIC FANTASY *WITH DRAGONS is a forthcoming novel about the quest of a dragonslayer banished from his home. But wait! This novel is wrapped around a novella which follows the story of a little princess who has her own problems. This excerpt concerns the birth of Princess Adora.

 

The story is clear to all who live on Sannan Island.

A palace guard captain bearing the name Yvik stood tall and straight one day after the mid-day meal, checking the correctness of her charges. In a bright yellow uniform, crimson epaulets and trouser stripes, a tall crimson cap with yellow bill atop her head, the woman made a wonderful sight when Queen Dorothea rounded the wide turn in the palace corr7215e3e5e547ae0042bafed856c24116idor, the passage between the Great Hall of Talk and the smaller Hall of Show.

The guard captain Yvik was fair and square, and sporting very yellow hair, her jaw in full alignment with the latitudes of the world. When the queen appeared in the corridor, Yvik had swung her sword up in salute, blunt edge against her shoulder. Her mistake was to allow her lips to part and her gleaming teeth to show, what some might call a grin.

The queen halted, and her procession crashed against themselves behind her in the corridor.

“What is your name?” asked the queen of the captain.

“Your Majesty, I am Yvik, captain second-class, first of the fifth, of the palace guards,” she replied in formal manner, keeping herself tall and rigid.

“I dislike the name yet your face pleases me,” said the queen with a flick of her fan. “You shall arrive at my slumber chamber at the edge of night.”

“Tonight, Your Majesty?” she asked, overwhelmed by duty.

“Did I fall over my words?” the queen retorted. Her staff chuckled for her. She turned to her note taker. “See that she is properly attired. And give her a better name. I won’t be calling my painful delights to the name of Yvik!” Her eyes returned to Yvik. “Oh. And bring your pet.”

“Pet, Your Majesty?”

“You have a pet, don’t you? Most upper level staff have one, I hear. I’d think a guard captain, even being second-class, would be able to afford one. If not, I’ll need to raise your wage.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I do have a pet.”

“Then bring it!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

So at the designated evening hour, Yvik arrived—briefly renamed Destina. She arrived dressed in a floor-swishing crimson velvet robe with golden flourishes provided by the queen’s staff and smelling of the spice-laden perfumes and the musk of wild rutting beasts which, the queen’s body maid knew, never failed to excite Her Majesty and made her body quiver, respond in heavenly fashion, and in the end assured that she would achieve success in the ancient ritual.

Destina was let into the chamber, taken to the edge of the slumber seat, and was ceremoniously unrobed. Beside the woman knelt her pet, naked but for a narrow cloth wrapped around the dirty parts.

“There’s my lover!” cried the queen from atop the stack of eight mattresses. She pressed them down to the height of five.

A single golden sheet covered the queen save for her rounded head and coiled hair and the tops of her meaty shoulders. Her chubby hands and rotund arms rose and clapped the air above her chest, the signal to begin the ritual.

Her body maids assisted in maneuvering Destina and her pet into the proper positions, her perfect un-uniformed body aligned over Her Majesty’s great wealth of flesh.

Beside Destina crouched her pet, a short, thin man formerly of the stables, having the name Gup or Gunt, not that it mattered. She had bought him from the stablekeep about a year before, when she dared believe she owed herself a small measure of enjoyment at the end of her duties each day. Fortunately, he had proven worthy of her choice. Now she must give him up. When Her Majesty invites you to visit her slumber seat, you do not arrive without a pet to share.

As everyone assembled in the queen’s slumber chamber knew, it was the time of the great mating, when a woman chooses a pet for her slumber seat. A bow to ancient ritual was all it was. Otherwise, the few men allowed in Sannan worked the fields and the farms and kept to themselves as best they could, awaiting a welcome respite in the service of a mistress. However, twice each year a festival was held and men were let into the city. Much mating occurred during the festival weeks, despite the laws allowing only the officially arranged unions. The remainder of the year, many of the high-born ladies kept a pet for an occasional evening’s dalliance. Her Majesty, however, could not abide such a poor, dirty thing being in the palace anymore than might be absolutely necessary for nature’s briefest call.

Thus, ointments and oils were applied by the queen’s body maids, and after some time a union was made. The pet shrieked and grunted and the wildness of its actions delighted both the queen and Destina, who had never shared her pet with anyone. The queen, too, squealed in something between a cry of pain and a plea for mercy. The strained voice Destina shared with the queen when the peak rolled over her was similarly a combination of animal noises and a strange, annoying whistling. The women shared a gasp.

“What is that?” the queen asked, huffing and puffing.

“My pet has made a noise, Your Majesty. My greatest apologies!”

“It smells so foul!”

“A thousand pardons, Your Majesty!” cried Destina.

“Only a thousand? I would think a million might get you closer to saving your position in the palace guards.” The queen regarded her body maid. “Remove the dirty thing this instant!”

Two beefy women grabbed hold of Destina’s pet, pulling him off the queen’s wide body.

“Then we have finished? It’s done?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Thank the goddesses! I don’t know how much more I could have taken.”

The pet was promptly pulled from the slumber chamber and no one knew or cared what became of it.

Destina was wiped clean, put back into the robe, and dismissed to some new location where she was unknown yet again called Yvik.

The queen’s body maids wiped her prodigious skin, washed her in the inward places, then set about testing the success of the ritual. It was a delicate procedure. After several hours in which the nursing staff pushed a long, thin tube up and inside the queen, measuring the dripping at the top of each hour, listening for just the right gurgle, just the right pop, just the right hiss, the chief nursing maid finally was able to pronounced success.

“Thank the goddesses!” the queen repeated at the bottom of each hour. She hated the testing but knew it was necessary. Better that than the need for a repeat performance. Pets could be so disgusting. Palace guards could be so quirky. If only the goddesses could flick their holy fingers and make a child appear fully formed.

On the fourth day after the ancient ritual, a royal announcement was made, stating for all the people in Sannan that the queen had, in this time of union, achieved royal success. And the word success was the golden prayer all who performed the ancient ritual hoped to speak and dared to hear. Obviously, a great cheer arose throughout the city. At last, their queen would bear a royal heir, already ten years since the passing of her mother, Queen Marvala.

And so, after some time, like in all stories big and small, whatever was required for the goddesses to mix together the perfect specimen of ladyhood, it was Queen Dorothea who opened her mighty thighs and with great effort and pain pushed out the perfect babe.

The fleshy thing was immediately identified as a lady and given straight into the arms of Her Majesty.

“She looks so adorable!” the queen was heard to say. “I shall call her Adora.”

“Hail Princess Adora!” the nursing staff cheered.

 

[Read the next section here on the Edgewise Words Inn blog, concerning when Princess Adora is nine years old and gains a baby brother.]

 


 

The lighter shade of Darkness

A lighter shade of dark
I’m down to the last few proof reading tweaks of my epic fantasy series, Darkness Rising, and it seemed an appropriate time to reflect upon whether I’ve succeeded in what I set out to do with it six years ago.
For those who haven’t read it (yes, I’m sure there are some of you out there…) it’s a six book series which follows the adventures of Emelia, a young girl liberated from ‘servitude’ by two thieves, Hunor and Jem. Emelia, in classic fantasy fashion, discovers she has an ability in Wild-magic, an unregulated branch of sorcery despised by the rigid Orders of elemental magic, and ‘psychic’ in style (emphasis on telekinesis, pyrokinesis, telepathy etc). The trio embark upon a quest to pull together the pieces of a magical prism before the bad guy, Vildor, an undead sorcerer can enact his nefarious plan.

So what were my goals when I began the epic journey of writing six books totalling over half a million words? It’s a really good question, and I suppose I could boil to down to:
1. To finally finish a literary project
2. Creation of a new world with an in-depth history, with enough variety of culture and race to provide a good backdrop to the quest
3. A fantasy yarn that would draw on traditional elements of the genre, without becoming too stereotypical, and that would avoid the current trend towards dark-fantasy
4. To try and throw some fresh elements into the genre, and synergise my love of comics and role-playing games with the work

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Well, number one is a tick. Woot! The Darkness Rising series represents my first attempt at anything beyond a short story. It was odd how it began and then grew. Initially I planned a chunky single volume, which then transformed into a two book project. Before I knew it I’d introduced a second key plot-line, that of Aldred and his own mission to cure his father of a curse, and finally a third, with the everyman character of Torm (a friend of Emelia’s from book one) and his curious relationship with the disgraced Arch-mage of Air. The three plot-streams remain fairly independent until books four and five when they all collide and then go bonkers. Was it padding, or did it add to the story? I suppose the reader is the best judge, but to my mind the idea of having two key characters (Hunor and Ekris) who are enemies was great fun, and having Torm progress from a minor character to one in whom the reader can empathise with (especially his raw heroism in the face of terrible odds at the Siege of Keresh) felt a good choice too.

So what about goal two? What I needed when created the world was an empire that had fallen apart (by civil war), magic that had had its hey day, events that would lead to Wild-magic arriving and what the reaction of the established Orders would be, and some suitable spats between adjacent nations. I also needed a rationale behind a ‘common’ tongue, given the rather cosmopolitan nature of my characters –and one of the former Empires provided that (the only legacy of the Eerian Empire was good roads and an Imperial tongue). Much as the characters and plotlines evolved, so did the political and cultural milieu of the world. The areas I’m most proud of are the Goldorians (with their pseudo-Puritan rejection of magic) and the Artorians, cleft into north and south, with opposing world views and religions. I had great fun with the Pyrians also—a nation who had learned their Imperial from works of Eerian literature and were thus intrinsically verbose and long-winded (as exemplified by Ygris the Fire-mage).
So did the series draw on traditional epic fantasy and steer clear of darkness, the book title excepted? I recall when I began the series being paranoid about stereotypes in fantasy—poring over websites that mocked the typical content of pseudo-Tolkien and Eddings. I lamented that I had a heroine rescued from ‘captivity’ who in a short period of time becomes a skilled warrior and sorceress; that I had an ancient evil threatening all; an artefact that would save the day; a quest, with a fine bunch of fellows, one of whom is a wise mentor; a ‘common’ tongue; magic used like superpowers; dark knights; adventurers…

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Then I got over myself. Who cares if any of that is in there? Those things are raw material, components to mix up and throw around and try and do something a little bit cheeky with. So, yes, Emelia is a skilled warrior after tutorage by Hunor and Jem. But given that she combines intelligent use of magic with sword play, why wouldn’t she be? And she’s bested on a number of occasions. She’s hardly unbeatable—her Wild-magic comes at a price, that of bipolar disorder, and a terrifying link with the main antagonist, Vildor. She does daft things, makes mistakes and poor choices. Ultimately, we come to love her more for it as we see her wade through the doldrums of depression and self-loathing. The ancient evil is not quite so clear cut either. From a very sadistic beginning we see Vildor in increasingly sympathetic light, always knowing he is despicable and evil, yet having some concept of his background and evolution. We see the twisted obsession of Xirik, his lieutenant and lover, and ultimately the real driver behind the ambitious plot. Sure there’s a quest, in fact there are several, but it doesn’t run as smoothly or as linearly as we’d expect as we head into the latter third of the series. New players come into the arena, the sinister creator of the crystals, Vaarn, throws an unexpected spanner in the works.

My concept for the magic is unashamedly RPG-based: elemental magic focused through gems of power, fragments of the great crystal that shattered in the myth of creation. And the Orders of magic are constrained by regulations, a Codex, that came into place after the Era of Magic ended rather badly. They rake in the cash from cynical use of sorcery to manipulate nature, from the weather alteration of the Air-mages, to the tidal influences of the Water-mages. And up against this ‘establishment’ with its snobbery and manipulation, comes the Wild-magic. A sorcery that springs up in an individual during adolescence with no consideration of social class or wealth or education. Hence it is persecuted by the traditional Orders, as something anarchic, not least as it affects the mind or neurological system of the wielder (Emelia, Jem, and Lemonbite being our first encounters with that). And through this I tried to make allusions towards society, and persecution, and happily drew from sources such as the X-men comics (itself drawing from themes of the Holocaust and genocide).

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The tone of the series is deliberately light. Sure you can dig deeper into themes of religious persecution, fear of death, existential dread, mid-life crisis, mental illness and self-harm, class war, vengeance and betrayal, but on the other hand you could happily read the series and hardly consider any of those themes. I’m a big fan of George RR Martin, Joe Abbercrombie, and Steven Erikson yet the darker end of fantasy can become quite fatiguing. Repeated negativity, violence, horror and gloom results in desensitisation and, especially for the TV adaptation of Game of Thrones, escalation. GoT is like a fantasy drug—we crave more and more, eager to ramp up the gore and gloom, hoping each shock is more grisly than the last. As a lad I grew up reading traditional fantasy of Tolkien, Eddings, Brooks, Moorcock (agreeably very cynical) and Hickman-Weis’s Dragonlance. In later years, when I began reading around the genre to prepare for the Darkness Rising series I read Hobb, Vance, Zelazny, and Poul Anderson, mixed in with Lynch, Erikson and Martin, and loved the gentler approach to characterisation and plot they had. So that was where I wanted my tone: exciting, adventurous, but nothing that would pull in an 18 certificate when Zack Snyder decides to adapt it for HBO…

So, an epic journey for me as well as the characters—and one in which I’ve met my own bunch of companions: Myrddin Publishing , and the sorcerous talents of Connie, Ceri and Alison and their influence on my books. Some of my old DnD pals (Giles and Nik) acted as excellent sounding boards, and in Nik’s case, an editor for book four. And my restless brain moves onto further projects—the slightly neglected YA sci-fi series, the Nu-knights, will be getting a new book by end-2016, and a secret alternate history project is in its infancy…

Darkness Rising (Book 2: Quest) (Prism)

‘From the dust-choked depths of antiquity I have risen…’


Wounded by a demon, Emelia is taken by her comrades, Jem and Hunor, into the dangerous Silver Mountains where they seek out an old friend. A chance encounter propels them into a quest to find artefacts of awesome power. But the Lord of the Ghasts, Vildor, has risen and lays a trap that may end their quest before it begins.

In Thetoria, Aldred Enfarson, begins an investigation into a horrific murder. As he starts to unravel the events surrounding the appearance of a vampyr, the shocking truth threatens all that he holds dear.

Darkness Rising- Quest is the second book in the epic fantasy series Prism, and is the concluding part of volume 1. Presented for the first time with new prologue and epilogue it is a must read for fantasy fans the world over.

You can buy Darkness Rising 2 – Quest for Kindle on Amazon US and Amazon UK.

Print coming soon.

 

Land of Nod, The Prophet (Land of Nod Trilogy) | Still searching for the Prophet, Jeff faces new dangers…

In this second book of the popular Land of Nod Trilogy, Jeff Browning continues his quest to find his father in the strange new world he has discovered. His journey takes him across a savage wilderness in which danger is inescapable.

While Jeff searches for The Prophet, his friend, Artimus, faces a less obvious but just as deadly maze of political conspiracies as he tries to convince a reluctant public that the invasion he helped thwart was only the beginning of a much more serious threat.

An epic science fiction, fantasy adventure with action and intrigue on every page.

War is coming.